Chapter Text
Zanka was considerably fucked.
He knew deep down that no matter what his relationship is with Enjin or Riyo, his punishment for his betrayal was inevitable.
Although, if he was being truthful, Zanka didn't know what came over him. One moment he was making an effort to calm down a ruffled Enjin and the next, Lovely Assistaff was aimed threateningly at the man he admired -his mentor, with a Riyo standing defensively in his doorway.
How would he feasibly be expected to explain this situation to the Boss? The query made him glance to the very of the bed where the Raider lies; his laissez-faire attitude sparked a feeling of infuriation that he was was beyond used to if he thinks about every interaction they've ever had, whether they were alone or fighting against each other with their respective teams.
"The wheels turnin' in your head are a little too loud, Mr. Bad Attitude." Zanka always hated the way the boy begun to act like he knew Zanka, knew him better than he knew himself.
"Fuck off." He forced his back to the wall furthest from Jabb- the Raider, hoping maybe the wall behind him would drink him into its depths. The familiarly heavy, buried feeling of hope that he could just vanish suddenly exploded through him like an angry tide.
"Are ya' that fuckin' dense?!" If Zanka was able to see anything past his blinding anxiety he would've saw the twitch of annoyance in the man's eye that broke through his typically neutral exterior. "We're quite literally trapped in this room with no means of escape, which is actually more of a problem for you than it is for me and you wanna act like you're suddenly an expert on how my brain works?" Despite his brashness he really did not want to wake up the rest of HQ if the news about him hadn't already spread, which then surfaced another feeling a dread.
The room was deafeningly quiet when his outburst simmered down to a stop until the other unnervingly sat up from his reclined position to lean on the scratchy mattress and finally opened his mouth.
"When was the last time you had a dose, man?" his laugh was low and came out like a huff or a scoff but the slight condescending head tilt that came before it had already set him off.
The large, surprisingly well-tamed air that was once securely tucked into his dark purple hoodie and the next it was a sprawled mess underneath him because Zanka had launched himself from his corner of the bed to tackle him to the floor so loud a thump sounded on reflective, marble floors Lovely Assistaff beamed as she trapped the Raider's neck that was now baring up at Zanka almost instinctively. The looming blades that crowded Jabber's throat were sharp and glaring under the dusky light which did nothing to stop his expression of gleam. Zanka realized right then that he was straddling Jabber, though Zanka overpowering him seemed like the least of his worries.
"Is this your way of buttering me up for some more poison, Zan-Zan?" Jabber's hands as though they were laced with electricity when they slithered up his thighs with surprising grace. "Cuz' I gotta say, it's working." His laugh was high and what Zanka could only describe as staticky with the way it whined and broke, unexpectedly.
"Shut. Up." he lifted Lovely Assistaff off the boy's neck slightly before slamming it back down. The lack of force in Jabber's grip has Zanka aching for more in such a way that he leaves him feeling so much shame; the hands clenching hi staff trembles so subtle that he doesn't think the man seen the squirmy movement.
"C'mon Zan-Zan, you know this just riles me u-"
Zanka's neck snapped up at the knock on the door drowned out the rest of Jabber's sentence.
His line of sight that was currently aimed at the metal door had gone abruptly hazy. His vision grew blurry and the edges of his eyes were suddenly sprinkled with black spots, obscuring the view of Jabber's face when his head lolled forward.
He's been poisoned.
Again.
"You're gonna have so much fun, Mr. Bad Attitude." He hardly registered the twisted words and the feeling of his body hitting the cold floor and everything went black.
His ears rung. The sound was high and piercing but did not distract him from the feeling of the wound that was quickly starting to gush, staining his freshly washed uniform.
Zanka could feel the strange liquid filling his cheeks that soon was accompanied by the potent sense of nausea and his stomach churning intimately and a tingly feeling clung to his fingertips all the way down to his toes.
His body was going numb, he thought. The feeling wasn't more inviting than before, something he'd never thought he would say.
Jabber was ecstatic at seeing the blonde like this. Always so uptight, he thought. Why couldn't Zan-Zan just tell him he was itching for another hit? He wouldn't judge! Not like he could anyway. He watched as the boy slumped over him murmured, his eyes were dazed but were as wide as saucers but they greatly matched his manically large smile. He pried the younger off of him and molded his twitching form until he was lying flat staring at the ceiling.
"てぃsちゃんのっべはっ....ぺにんgあがいん (This can't be....happening again)
"Ha?" Jabber crouched down, forcing his ear closer like it could somehow translate the somewhat dialect that Zanka's tongue had slipped into. "I didn't quite catch that Zan-Zan!"
The accent was unintelligible to him with the additional slurring, the words he might have understood were flushed into gibberish but he was incredibly curious about what was making such a loud laugh and what Jabber would classify as a giggle follow after until it teetered out and returned to more muttering that Jabber gave up struggling to understand.
He sighed.
The weight of his wicks had gotten stronger as he tipped his head back a rush of pride rushing through him as he watched his poison work through Zanka. His body lit up with something he couldn't place at the thought of being the first to witness this side of Zanka, so vulnerable, so at ease. Although, he does a feel a bit of jealousy seeing how much fun the other seems to be having, even if he'd had multiple doses the day before to test before curating a plan to give it to him. That way he doesn't do anything silly like kill him.
After peeking a glance Jabber felt an unusual urge and decided to follow through, pressing his forehead against Zanka's, looking into his now half-lidded eyes.
"そ、そ、そおおぢzzいいへ......じゃっべr?" (So, so, soooo dizzy...... Jabber?)
"Yo," he exclaimed. "I can't understand you, man." Unbeknownst to Jabber, his voice softened and his emphases were harsh whispers. Why was he whispering?
The torching teal irises surrounding his obvious blown out pupils, whom as which seemed as though they were permanent in their enlarged state. Hopefully he was fine, he should be.
The old blondie probably would've beaten his ass; if he got close enough, that is.
When he flopped next to the other the feeling of something wet almost made him flinch, he looked beside him to see a pool of blood starting to from the wound he inflicted. It stained Zanka's clothes -when the boy finally comes to, he will not hear the end of it. The smell of copper filled the room with its heavy aroma that still affected him even if he's smelt it countless times.
Moments passed, the concept of time appeared slower and lingered leisurely after hearing the younger's boisterous cackle prompted an echo.
Cathoni is not going to be happy about this, Jabber thought. Somehow, she had found out about his late night...endeavors -of course, not in detail- but she would routinely lurk outside his room by the time he got back. She'll be waiting a long time before returns, he guesses. I was fun while it lasted, though it's not like she liked him. Cathoni was just forced to take care of him, what else could she have done with him? His thoughts were interrupted when he felt something touch his arm.
To his right, Zanka was a twitching mess on the floor. He could see and feel the jolts zapping through his body like ricocheting electricity.
"Easy there, Mr. Bad Attitude." He laughed. He must be having so much fun. The sound of his laugh must've spooked him because he felt a flinch, it felt like a high-strung rubberband that had finally been released.
Lovely Assistaff was idle on the floor beside Zanka's head and the light from the beloved staff dimmed and glowed again, always connected to the soul that brought it life. It felt like a reaction to the staff when Mankira buzzing pulsed through his fingertips, he loved this feeling. Jabber realized a while ago that Mankira was heavily affected by Lovely Assistaff, the same as he was with Zanka, though the other didn't want to admit it, Jabber knows he's felt the same.
The groan Zanka let out was deep and gravely.
His high was over, Jabber sighed disappointingly. On the other hand, he could say he was proud of how much Zanka has adjusted to Mankira after each dosage.
"ふっく" (Fuck)
He slurs. "Fuck, what the hell did you stab me with, you- ugh shit." The hand that was once empty now encircled a part of his vital instrument with a clench so firm, Mankira lit up at Jabber's imagery of the Lovely Assistaff snapping in his hand.
He rolled to the sideto get a better view of zanka's body -though only paying the most attention to his side profile. Was the slope of his nose always so curved? It gave him a bit of an overbite too.
Shit.
"Answer me, ya fuckin' freak. This doesn't feel like the same poison from last time." He watched as the boy released his staff, gently placing her on the ground before he pressed the edge of his palms to his eyes so hard it looked like it hurt.
"Hey, man! Is that how you talk someone who just gave you a free high?" Jabber sat up even more, practically hovering over him. "You gotta work on your bedside-manner."
He didn't even bother to remove his hands. "Yeah, I've been told."
"Zan-Zan, I cooked up something real good just for you! That shit that gets you all jittery; gives you a fuck-ton of adrenaline and excitement? That's synthetic phenethylamine! You know what it is? No? That's okay. But obviously with the way things are down here, the large amount of pollution, it's genuinely impossible to grow fresh crops or even the sea creatures that would be needed to make majority of neurotoxins -I've been reading about them Zan-Zan- I would just extract whatever I need from them like something they probably do up in the Sphere, but I managed to make them artificially-!"
Amidst his rambling Zanka had been slowly forcing himself upright and he put his hand up lazily to cut him off.
"Woah, Jabber slow down! Ya' do realize that less than a second ago I was high outta my mind? Give me a sec, will ya, I'm not even fully conscious yet." he groaned but flung himself back to the ground, apparently caring less about the now medium sized puddle of blood he just flopped right into. Zanka covered his eyes with his oiled sleeve.
He waited with unorthodox patience. A tired sigh came from the blonde, but he waved his hand. Jabber took that as his sign to continue.
So, he did.
Zanka didn't know why, after everything that has happened, he would be laying in this abandoned room, recovering from a high, with the man that's been poisoning him in secret for days, and attacking Enjin of all people for said man.
He listened to the boy yap and yap about the poison he had yet to grasp the concept of, but Jabber was more animated than he had ever seen and Zanka didn't have the heart to stop him.